Myths and Legends
by marylou
Summary: The stories tell of an ancient king who waits in an enchanted sleep with his most faithful servants for the day that they are needed . . . On hiatus; see profile for more info.
1. Prologue

"Miss me, lad?" asked a voice at Terence's right.

Terence didn't need to turn. He knew Gawain's voice better than he knew his own. "Wondered where you were, rather."

"I came on ahead," Gawain said. "I wanted to be the first to welcome Griflet to the guard."

Now Terence saw with amusement that Gawain stood beside the old court dandy. Griflet still only came up to Gawain's chin, but his eyes were strong and confident as Terence had never seen them before. "Griflet," Terence said, nodding. Griflet smiled back. "What guard is that?" Terence asked Gawain.

"Arthur's guard of honor, of course," Gawain said. "Come with me."

Together all the knights who had followed Bedivere trooped down to the beach, while others detached themselves from the waiting crowd and met them at the barge. They formed two lines, facing each other. Terence found himself across from Gaheris, who winked at him, and a few steps away from Bors and Lionel. Lionel was whispering something to Bors, who was trying very hard to ignore him and maintain solemn expression. At the far end of the line, nearest the barge, Terence saw Gareth, and beside him, Agrivaine. Terence blinked and took another look. It was undoubtedly Agrivaine even though Terence couldn't imagine why he should be in Arthur's guard of honor. Agrivaine met his eyes, smiled ruefully, and shrugged, as if to say, "I don't understand it, either." Terence chuckled.

Then, from the gathered crowd, a new group began walking toward the barge, all women, bearing a litter draped in silk. At the head of the procession strode Nimue, the Lady of the Lake, and her daughter, Ariel. As they approached, Bedivere stepped out of the line and held out Excalibur. Nimue took it, nodding her thanks to Bedivere, then continued onto the barge. Behind her, carrying the litter, walked to other ladies. Terence recognized Lady Lynet, Lady Sarah of Milrick, Parsifal's wife, Conduiramours, and Lorie, Gawain's wife. At the end of the procession a diminutive figure strode firmly. Terence felt something relax within. It was his beloved Eileen, who had never bothered to learn the dainty step of most court ladies.

On the litter, his face lined with age, but peacefully composed in sleep, was Arthur himself. The women carried Arthur onto the barge, where Nimue placed Excalibur at his side. Then the ladies stepped off the barge and made way for one more to take their place. Dressed in a regal dress and veiled in gauze- it was hard to tell it if looked more like a mourning veil or a wedding veil- the enchantress Morgan Le Fay stepped onto the barge and sat quietly beside the king, followed by Kai, Lancelot, Gawain, Eileen, and Lorie, sitting in a semi-circle around the reposing body of the king, leaving one empty chair.

Terence paused at the edge of the barge uncertainly. "Come on, then, lad," Gawain beckoned at him. "There's room for one more." Terence hesitated, looking back at where his father stood on the shore before nodding decisively and stepping onto the barge, taking the last seat.

At last Ganscotter spoke. "You are certain, all of you? You do this of your own will, not because I asked you?"

Morgan nodded, speaking for them all. "He is our brother, and our king."

"He will not die, you know."

She nodded again. "And the only man I've ever cared for."

"Nor will he wake until he is called for."

"We will wait."

Ganscotter smiled. "Very well," he said. "Then for your loyalty, I grant those gifts also to you. Sleep, Camelot's faithful, forever young and forever true beside Arthur the King. When he returns, wake also and return with him."

Slowly, Terence's eyes closed, as did the others, though they remained seated upright. The barge disengaged from the shore and moved out to sea. In a moment, it was swallowed up in mist.

"Farewell, my son," Ganscotter whispered.

* * *

Approximately 1200 years later . . .

* * *

"And King Arthur and his most faithful servants sailed off into eternity, forever asleep until they were called for again. And the mighty country that Arthur had founded eventually grew to become the land of Araluen as it is today. And somewhere, floating in an endless sea, a mighty king and his knights are waiting to be awoken during Araluen's greatest trial." The storyteller finished with a grand flourish.

"Wow," Will breathed in amazement. "That was a great story! Is it really true?"

The old woman nodded solemnly. "As sure as I live and breathe, it is. And, you've heard of Castle Araluen, where the king lives?"

Will nodded, his eyes wide.

"Well, young lad, do you know what it was called before it was named that?"

Will shook his head.

"It was called _Camelot."_

"It was?" he breathed.

The woman nodded.

"Wow," Will said after the old story teller had left. "I want to be one of King Arthur's knights." Beside him, Horace laughed mockingly. "You? You can't be a knight! Look at you! You're a weak little twig!"

Will glared at him. "I will be a knight! Just you wait, you'll see!"

Horace laughed again. "In your dreams, maybe."

Will growled fiercely and jumped on top of him, knocking the air out of his lungs. "You take that back!"

Horace rolled over and pinned him to the floor. "Make me," he sneered. Will glared at him before moving swiftly to knee Horace in the stomach. Horace rolled off him, his hands moving to clutch at his stomach in pain. Will took the moment to flee, running to the old willow tree in the front yard and climbing to the top. "You'll see," he muttered angrily, wiping a tear from his face. "I'll be a knight. I'll be the greatest knight ever."

* * *

Far away, floating on a misty sea, Terence stirred in his sleep. Something was coming.

* * *

 **Portions of this were taken from the end of _The Legend of the King_ , with a few minor changes to make it fit the story better.**


	2. Chapter 1

"Alright, Crowley, what is so important that you had to summon me here? And stop pacing, you're giving me a headache!"

Crowley turned to face Halt. "I can't help it, Halt. It's what I do when I'm worried."

Halt rolled his eyes. "Then stop worrying."

"I can't just stop worrying like that! Do you know how much I have to worry about?"

"Yes, and I'm sure that the entire kingdom would collapse if you weren't around to worry about every little thing. Now sit down and tell me what's going on."

Crowley collapsed into his chair. "Well, we've received a few disturbing reports from the ranger in Dacton Fief."

Halt frowned. "Who's the ranger there?"

"Kevyn Daltwile."

Halt nodded. "He's a good ranger. Trustworthy. Experienced. What's he say?"

"You remember a few years ago when we were getting reports about sorcery and Malkallam?"

Halt raised his eyebrow at Crowley. "It's rather difficult to forget."

"Right, well, Kevyn says that Baron Linwood, the baron at fief Dacton, has been researching . . . magic."

Halt stared at him. "Magic."

"Yes."

"Well, what type of magic? If he's researching how to magically create bunnies and rainbows, then it's not really anything to worry about, is it."

Crowley shook his head, his face grim. "He's not researching bunnies and rainbows. He's looking for stories and legends about Camelot. And King Arthur."

Halt snorted. "Really? Children's stories? And we're getting involved in this, why?"

"He's trying to find the legends that describe how to resurrect King Arthur."

Halt frowned. "You know, I don't think that's the correct way to phrase that. I mean, according to the stories, King Arthur was put into an enchanted sleep. So he'd be awoken, not resurrected." His mouth twitched. "Perhaps Linwood should try kissing King Arthur. I've heard that that works with fair maidens, it might work with kings as well."

"Halt, come on now, this is serious. It doesn't matter if Arthur was a real person and the magic spells to awaken him are real; what matters is if that Baron Linwood can get someone to convincingly pretend to be King Arthur, then people will flock to him. The story of Camelot and King Arthur is a story that everyone knows. It's told on every holiday. Every child knows it. If they could get enough people to follow them, then they could potentially overthrow Duncan."

"Are you sure you're not exaggerating there, Crowley?"

"Linwood is already recruiting men to 'restore the true king to the throne'. Kevyn infiltrated a recruitment meeting."

Halt snorted. "Well, if you have that information, then why don't you just arrest Linwood and be done with it?"

Crowley shook his head. "If I could, then I would have arrested already, but he wasn't actually at the meeting. We have no real proof that he is supporting this, other than the fact that he is researching legends about Camelot. It's all just supposition. And, as you've said before, it is part of our brief to deal with cases where there's insufficient evidence for a conviction."

Halt glared at him. "There's no need to quote myself. And that's not formally acknowledged, as you well know. So what are you planning on doing about Linwood?"

"I was thinking about using Will."

"You know, whenever there's a potentially vital mission, you always seem to turn to Will. Are you sure that you're not depending on him too much? Maybe you should give someone else a chance to be a hero."

Crowley sighed. "That was just a suggestion. But if you think that Will can't handle it . . ."

"There's no need to insult him like that."

"Well, I just thought that Will would be a good choice for this since he's dealt with a situation similar to this one."

Halt grumbled. "I suppose that makes sense. Did you already contact Will?"

Crowley nodded. "He's on his way. He should be here in about two days."

Halt brightened almost imperceptible. "It'd be nice to see him again. But he better not bring that lute of his," he grumbled.

* * *

Baron Linwood sat at a desk in his office, flipping through books dispiritedly. "Have you found anything yet, Natalie?" he asked his wife.

"Not yet, darling, but we're bound to find something sooner or later," she responded.

"Good," he said. "The men are getting restless. If we don't come up with something conclusive in the next couple of days, then I don't think I'll able to control them anymore."

"You know," Lady Natalie said hesitantly. "We could just find someone who can pretend to be King Arthur. Finding an actual spell to wake him is taking too long, and it's doubtful if it'll work."

"No," he shook his head determinedly. "My grandmother swore that the spell was in her books. She said that we are descended from a sorceress who was the disciple of Arthur's half-sister, and lived the same time as Arthur and even knew him. I've told you this before. And just think, if we can manage to return King Arthur, _the_ King Arthur, just think what else we could do! With him at my right hand, I could become king! And you would be my queen."

"It sounds lovely, Lin, but is it even possible? I mean, they are just _legends._ No one knows if there's any truth to them!"

He didn't respond. She turned to him, frowning. "Linwood? What is it?"

"This is it," he whispered.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

"I've found it," he gasped.

"The spell?"

"Yes! It is just as Grandmother said it would be! The spell to awaken King Arthur."

Natalie threw the books she was holding down onto the table. "Wonderful! That means that I don't need to keep reading these."

"Natalie, when is the new moon?"

Lady Natalie frowned. "I believe it is sometime next week. Why? Is it important for the spell?"

He nodded. "The ritual must be completed on the new moon, as close to the sky as possible, in a stone chamber ringed by the blood of the innocents."

Natalie wrinkled her nose. "Sounds messy. Why 'as close to the sky as possible'? And what does that even mean?"

Linwood shuffled through the papers. "Judging from the illustration, the ritual is meant to be completed in a high tower. I believe it is meant to be the opposite of the circumstances when Camelot was lost. In the sky, not near the sea. The blood of innocents, not the blood of the wicked. The new moon, not the full moon."

Natalie nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense. What else do we need?" She stood and moved behind him, leaning down to read over his shoulder.

"Nothing too complicated. We should be ready by the new moon next week. I'll go tell the men to start getting ready."

* * *

Will rode up to the cabin, jumping off Tug in front of the porch. Halt was sitting at a table on the porch, going through paperwork. "Hey, Halt!" Will said cheerily. Halt just glared at him. "Will, I just saw you last week. There's no need to act as if you haven't seen me in ages."

Will laughed. "Ah, come on Halt, don't be so gloomy. I know you've missed me too."

Halt cleared his throat. "Crowley!" he called. "Will's here! Get out here!"

A few moments later Crowley shuffled out of the cabin, a sleepy expression in his eyes. "Did you have to yell, Halt? I was asleep."

Halt snorted. "Of course you were. But now that Will's here, how about we give him his assignment so you can go _back_ to sleep and waste the rest of the day!"

"Ignore him," Crowley told Will. "His dinner with Pauline was interrupted by a robbery gone bad. He's still mad about it."

Will chuckled. "So what's the situation?"

"Ah." Crowley grew serious. "Do you recall that situation a few years ago in Macindaw?"

Will just stared at him.

Crowley cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I'm sure you do. Well, we seem to have a somewhat similar situation where another Baron might be dabbling in magic."

"So . . ." Will said uncertainly. "Is this mumbo jumbo, mind domination, mass hallucination, or the last one percent?"

Halt and Crowley looked at each other. "We don't know yet. As far as we know, Baron Linwood has never actually attempted any magic. But we do know that his secretary has been leading seditious meetings and recruiting men in preparation for a rebellion."

Will frowned. "So where does the magic come in?"

"He is trying to find spells that will raise King Arthur from the dead in order to lead a rebellion in his name."

"You mean 'wake' King Arthur. Not raise him from the dead. We've been through this before," Halt said.

Crowley waved a hand at him, dismissing the statement. "It doesn't matter which impossible thing he's attempting to do."

"Is he actually serious about finding the actual Arthur, or is he just going to get someone to pretend to be Arthur?" Will asked.

Halt shook his head. "We don't know, but it doesn't matter which one; both could potentially be dangerous."

"You know," Will mused. "The Camelot stories were always my favorite when I was growing up."

Crowley grinned. "They were? Then do you know that, according to legends, the Rangers were based on a member of King Arthur's court?"

Will stared at him. "Really? I didn't know that."

"It's just a legend," Halt interrupted. "Likely there's no truth in it at all."

"But still, it would be interesting to know if it were true," Will mused.

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Halt said grumpily. "You two can compare stories and legends later."

"Right," Will nodded. "So what's the plan?"


	3. Chapter 2

The road wound upward toward the central hill, through well-spaced, wind-swept trees. There was plenty of light, unlike in the thick forests around Castle Redmont, or the dark pine forests of Skandia that Will remembered all too well. The leaves were just beginning to bud on the trees. All in all, it was pleasant country. As he rode, Will saw plenty of evidence of game- rabbits, of course, and wild turkey. Once he caught a quick flash of white when a deer showed him its hindquarters as it bounded away. The trees eventually thinned and he rode out into the sunlight again at the bottom of the hill that the village rested upon. Will sighed in relief, groaning as he stretched, popping the muscles in his back. It was times like these that made some of his missions feel almost like a vacation, traveling throughout the kingdom, often with just Tug for company. He sighed again and nudged Tug, starting to move towards the village. He would get a room at the local inn that night, and spend the evening performing for the villagers, and maybe getting some information. With it being a few days ride from Castle Dacton, it was doubtful if he would get any pertinent information here, but it was worth a try. Besides, he enjoyed playing and performing for people.

* * *

High in the tallest tower of Castle Dacton, Baron Linwood and his wife worked. They had to have everything ready for when the new moon hit its highest point, and they were running late. Linwood was in the middle of painting a thin line of blood in a circle around the middle of the chamber. He didn't know where it had come from; he had just ordered his secretary to somehow procure it, and he had. Lady Natalie was following behind him, straightening the line.

Linwood finally put his paint brush aside. "It's ready," he sighed. Natalie sat back on her heels and looked around at the chamber. The room was entirely encircled about by the red line. The chamber was brightly lit, with lanterns and candles speckled around the edge of the room. A chalice sat at each of the four cardinal directions, a stick of incense in each one.

"Are you sure this will work?" she asked.

He nodded confidently. "It will. Now, let's see," he walked over to the desk in the corner of the room, outside of the line, and opened the book to the marked page. "Now all we can do is wait for the moon."

. . .

Linwood shut the book with a snap. "It's time. Get into position." He moved to stand at the front of the chamber, just outside of the circle. "Get out of the circle," he motioned to Natalie. She moved to stand next to him. With a deep breath, Linwood turned to the East. "May there be might in the East." He lit the stick of incense .

"So mote it be", Natalie whispered. He turned to the South. "May there be strength in the South."

"So mote it be."

"May there be power in the West."

"So mote it be."

"May there be nobility in the North." Linwood lit the last stick of incense and moved to the middle of the circle, spreading his arms wide. "May there be majesty in this circle, and throughout the whole kingdom."

There was a final "So mote it be," followed by a sudden clap of thunder, and both Linwood and Natalie fell to the ground unconscious. The room filled with a thick, silvery mist, flowing up from the line of blood. The mist started to draw together in the middle of the circle, taking the shape of bodies. The mist swirled around the room one last time before dissipating, leaving eight unconscious people behind, still sitting in a semicircle in their ornate chairs, heads slumped forward and resting against their chests. With a groan, one of the men stirred, raising his hand to brush against his head as he woke up. He looked around the chamber, staggering to his feet. "Milord!" Terence gasped, stumbling over to the body of a large man.

"Milord, wake up!"

Gawain began to stir, trying to brush Terence away with a moan. "Not now, Terence, give me a just a few more minutes."

"Gawain, wake up! This is not the time for a nap!"

Gawain opened his eyes blearily, before jumping to his feet with a gasp. "Good Gog, Terence what happened!"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I- We were- we were fighting, I think, and- and Camelot's gone." He gasped. "And your father- he put us to sleep, said that we would wake when we were called for, whatever that means."

"Yes," Terence responded. "Someone must have called us forward. But it's not the right time." He frowned.

"How can you tell?" Gawain asked. Terence glanced at him. "Just- from things my father said. Someone must have interfered."

"Regardless, we should probably go wake the others up." "Right," Terence nodded.

A few minutes later, everyone was awake and confused.

"What just happened?" Terence heard Kai's gruff voice ask. "Anyone know where we are?"

"I have no idea," Lancelot responded.

"We have been summoned," Morgan said weakly. She stumbled and started to slump to the floor, before Lorie caught her. "Morgan?" she asked, patting her cheek gently. "Are you alright?" Morgan didn't respond.

"The ritual used to summon us drew partially on her power," Terence said. "Once she has a chance to rest, she'll be fine."

"Look at this." Eileen said. Terence walked over to where she stood next to the crumpled bodies of a man and woman, dressed richly. "I guess they were the ones who summoned us," he mumbled under his breath, before turning his attention to the book that Eileen had found. His face grew pale.

"Terence?" Arthur spoke for the first time. "What is it?"

"The ritual used to summon us here- it's dark magic. It looks like one of Morgause's.

Gawain cursed. "I had hoped that I was done with her."

Terence chuckled. "Bad luck, then, milord."

Arthur glanced around the room anxiously. His eyes landed on the open window. "Terence."

He looked up. "Yes, sire?"

"Could you climb out that window and down the tower?"

Terence walked over to the window, leaning out and glanced down to the ground below. The tower was made out of large blocks of stone, the edges still rough and jagged. A few guards could be seen, but it would be easy for someone of Terence's skill to avoid them. He pulled back into the room. "Of course."

Arthur nodded. "Good. I want you to climb down and figure out what's going on. Who the current king is, who summoned us and what their purpose is, what the state of the kingdom is. That sort of thing."

Terence nodded. "Yes, sire." He kissed Eileen goodbye before practically jumping out the window.

"Always scares me a bit when he does that," Kai said.

* * *

Not that far away, a lone rider rode up into the village surrounding the castle. He jumped off his horse and put it away in the inn's stables, and walked into the inn with a pack on his back. Once inside the inn, he sat down at a table, asking for a bowl of stew and tankard of ale when the serving girl came over to him.

There was a murmur of interest as those present saw what the young man had been carrying under his cloak. He placed a hard leather instrument case on the table. Travelers weren't that rare in this part of the kingdom, but any kind of entertainment was always welcome, so those present saw the prospect of a more interesting night than they had anticipated.

The serving girl came back with his stew and ale. "Musician, are you?" she asked expectantly, and Will nodded, smiling in return. "Just an honest jongleur, darling," he winked at her. "So let's have a tune then," she suggested, smiling back.

Will paused, looking meaningfully down at his bowl. "Oh," she realized. "Perhaps when you are done with your dinner?"

He smiled genially at her. "Perhaps. Maybe a few songs after my supper."

. . .

Later, after Will had almost exhausted his repertoire of songs, the tavern keeper, who had left the bar to one of his serving girls and had come to sit close by Will, glanced at the water clock that dripped slowly on a mantle. "Perhaps one more," he said, and Will nodded easily. Inside, he felt a tightening of his chest. This was the moment he had built to over the night- a chance to get the locals talking.

Now he strummed a major chord sequence and began singing:

" _I call upon the muse of song_

 _Or epic, like as not,_

 _To tell a tale, but not too long,_

 _Before it be forgot."_

He sensed the change in the room the moment he began singing. The song was a popular one, and well-known, telling the story of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. People exchanged apprehensive glances, and the younger ones moved closer, focusing on the lyrics.

"' _Behold!' cried Gawain, 'There my falsehood lies fallen!_

' _Your cut taught me cowardice, care for my life,_

' _I have ever sought loyalty, love, and largesse,_

' _But in falseness I find only fear.'_

"' _Grasp once again, O Green Knight, your axe,_

' _And strike yet a second time after my shame._

' _I will not resist, too wretched am I,_

' _And gladly I . . .'"_

He let the song tail away, as if noticing the discomfort among his listeners for the first time. "I'm sorry," he said, smiling at the room. "Is something wrong?" Again, glances were exchanged and the people who just a few moments ago were laughing and applauding him were not unwilling to meet his gaze. The tavern keeper, obviously troubled, said in an apologetic tone, "It's not the place or time to be telling tales of Arthur and his knights, lad. You weren't to know, of course." There was a chorus of assent. Will allowed the smile to widen, keeping his expression as artless as possible.

"I wasn't to know what?" he said. There was a pause, then the tavern keeper took the plunge. "There's strange rumors going around the fief these days, is all."

"You mean . . . something to do with Camelot?" he asked in a hushed voice. The room went silent for a moment. Then one of the farmers answered. "It's not for us to say what it is that's going on in his head, but . . ."

"Who?" Will asked. "Whose head?"

"Lord Linwood. There's people saying that he's trying to bring the king back. Through- through _sorcery_! The black art!"

"Right uncanny," one of the others grumbled. "Them that are dead should stay dead, that's what I say."

"Ay. It's not natural."

"That's enough of that talk now, Barney," said the tavern keeper. "It's best not to talk about such matters." From the mumble of agreement, Will sensed that there would be no further discussion this night. He struck a chord on the mandola. "Well, I agree then, this is no time to sing about Camelot. Perhaps we should finish with one about a drunken king and a staggering dragon?" And he launched into it straightaway.

" _Oh, the drunken king of Angledart_

 _Could blow out candles with a fart._

 _But the world never knew of the courage in his heart_

 _Till he slayed the Staggering Dragon . . ."_

Laughter swelled up in the room and the uncomfortable mood was dispelled as Will laid out the tale of the knock-kneed staggering dragon and the king with serious digestive problems. It would never do at Castle Araluen, he thought, but it certainly did the trick here.

* * *

 **Parts of this chapter were quoted from _The Sorcerer of the North._ The songs that Will sings are from both _The Ballad of Sir Dinadan_ and _The Sorcerer of the North._**


	4. Chapter 3

Back in the castle, Kai looked over as Linwood stirring, turning over on the ground with a groan. Lorrie walked over

to him. "Sir?" she asked. "Are you alright?" he stared up at her for a few moments before jumping up, gasping in shock. "Did it work? Did it? Are you- who are you?" He glanced around the room, gasping as his gaze landed on Arthur before turning his attention back to Lorie.

"I am Lady Lorie," she responded.

"Why have you summoned us here?" Arthur asked, moving forward towards him.

"I- I am sorry, sire, but I felt that it was necessary." Linwood said. "With the state that the kingdom is in- well, I didn't think that we could restore the kingdom to its proper order by ourselves. There are too few of us." He bowed slightly.

Arthur nodded. "You felt that you could not manage on your own, so you summoned a higher power."

"Forgive my interruption, sire," Gawain interrupted. "But would you mind telling us your name, and where we are exactly?" he asked Linwood.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, of course! I am Baron Linwood of this fief, Dacton, in the kingdom of Araluen, which was formerly known as the island of Britain. It is the year 1247."

Arthur nodded distractedly. "And what is the state of the kingdom? Why did you find it necessary to summon myself?"

Linwood hesitated. "Well, sire, the current king, King Duncan- he-" his face grew hard. "He is trampling on the rights of the people. I- I didn't know what else to do. I am too weak to change things by myself, and I found this spell, and I thought- well, I could think of nothing else."

Natalie began to stir. Linwood hurried over to her and pulled her head into his lap. "Natalie?" he said gently, patting her cheek. "Natalie, we've done it, it worked, wake up!" She stirred, turning her head slightly as her eyes fluttered open. "What? It worked?" She turned her head to stare at the strangers. Gawain waved cheekily at her, smiling. Lorie rolled her eyes and hit him in the chest with her elbow. "Behave, you," she muttered.

"Your majesty," Linwood began. "May I present my wife, the Lady Natalie."

Arthur nodded to her as she curtsied deeply. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Natalie. May I present my seneschal and brother, Sir Kai, my nephew Sir Gawain and his wife, Lady Lorie, Sir Lancelot-"

Natalie gasped, staring at him in amazement. Kai rolled his eyes. "Oh, no, not one of those," he muttered to Gawain.

"And Lady Eileen. And the Lady Morgan has not yet awakened."

"Welcome back, sire," Linwood bowed. "Now, why don't I show you to your rooms. We can discuss things later."

"Of course," Arthur responded smoothly.

Linwood and Lady Natalie led the way out of the room with the others following. "Arthur," hissed Kai. "Are we really going trust them?"

"I don't know yet," Arthur responded softly, his lips barely moving. "That's what Terence is supposed to find out."

"But how is he supposed to get back here to us without them noticing?"

Arthur sighed softly. "Have you ever noticed, Kai, that Terence can do almost anything when he puts his mind to it?"

"But still-"

"What else can we do? We are in an unfamiliar land in an unfamiliar time. All we can do now is wait and see what happens."

* * *

Terence clung to the side of the tower unsteadily. He had thought that he was completely recovered from being asleep for who knew how long, but apparently he hadn't. He took a deep breath and moved farther down the tower, holding tight to the jagged stones. A few feet from the bottom, he jumped, landing in a crouch on top of the castle battlements. He carefully made his way to the door to the main part of the castle, moving confidently. The servants' quarters were relatively easy to find; the layout of castles hadn't changed very much from what he was familiar with. He quickly snagged a new change of clothes and a pack from one of the castle's manservants. In the guards' quarters, he was able to grab a bow and arrows. They were the rather flimsy hunting kind, but they would be useful anyway.

Terence slowly worked his way unnoticed through the rest of the castle, borrowing whatever he thought he would need. He did regret stealing from the servants, but there really wasn't any other alternative. Silently, he slipped through the castle gate and into the nearby woods.

. . .

Terence walked carefully down the path to the nearby village. He had made his way through the woods surrounding the castle, avoiding the road so he wouldn't be seen. He came upon a small hunting path and began following it. A small path like this would be better than just making his way haphazardly through the trees. He heard shouts from in front of him, further along the path and just around a bend, so he couldn't see what was happening. He slid of the path and into the trees, making his way slowly and carefully towards the sounds. He came up to a small clearing and peered out from around the trees.

There was a large group of soldiers, wearing what Terence recognized as the local baron's coat of arms. He had seen it earlier scattered throughout the castle. They were accompanied by some mounted knights, all surrounding a single man. To the side of them, around fourteen of the soldiers lay, some not moving and others being tended to by someone who could have been their healer. They all looked to have been hit with arrows. He looked around the clearing again and this time spotted a man tied to a tree. One of the commanding officers appeared to be questioning him, before hitting him and walking away. Terence backed away from the tree and started ghosting through the trees over to the tied up man.

* * *

Will leaned his head back against the tree he was tied to. Somehow, they had known that he was coming. And while he was good, even he couldn't fight thirty men at close quarters by himself. He smirked to himself. It was somewhat gratifying to know that they feared him enough to send that many people.

"Having a bit of trouble?" he heard a quiet voice say from behind him.

Will barely managed to stop himself from flinching. "You might say that," he said, barely moving his lips. "What's it to you?"

He could practically hear the shrug. "Nothing much, I was just curious."

"Who are you, anyway?" Will asked.

"My name's Terence. I'm- ah, that is, I transport goods."

Will gave a barely noticeable smile. "You mean you're a smuggler."

"You might say that." There was a hint of humor in Terence's voice. "And you? What'd you do to annoy them so much?"

Will hesitated. "My name's Will. I'm a King's Ranger."

There was a pause. "I guess I should rephrase my previous question. What did _they_ do to attract your attention?"

"That's not really important right now," Will said carefully. "Do you have a horse?"

"No. Why?"

"Do you think that you could steal one of those over there?" he nodded over to the soldiers' horses, standing tied to a tree.

"If you distracted them, then I think I could."

"Good. If you take a message for me, then I can make it worth your while."

"You do realize that you're tied to a tree, right?"

Will rolled his eyes. "The people you take the message to will reward you, then." He waited for an answer.

Terence sighed softly. "What's the message, then?"

Will relaxed slightly. Things were looking up again.

. . .

Terence glanced around the tree. He was standing next to the horses, waiting for Will to move. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the man, and he had no idea what a king's ranger was, but even from the brief conversation they had had, he liked Will. There wasn't much information he could glean from the message that Will gave him, but maybe he would be able to learn more at Castle Araluen.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye as one of the soldiers walked past Will. Almost quicker than Terence could see, Will snapped a leg out right as the soldier walked past him. He tripped, his arms flailing as he tried to catch his balance again, but without hope. The others looked over as he crashed to the ground, the commanding officer running over to yell at Will. While they were distracted, Terence slipped the reins of one of the horses free, slinging himself into the saddle. He kicked the horse into a run as he raced through the trees and onto the small deer path that he had noticed earlier, dodging branches as he did so. He made it onto the path and glanced behind him. He could hear the soldiers starting to pursue him, but none of them had made it through the trees yet. He grinned, racing down the path again. With his skills, it would be simple to lose them in the woods.

* * *

 **Sorry it's been so long. I'll try and update again soon.**


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